Patient Zero
by caldera32
Summary: A mysterious illness is spreading throughout Camelot and Merlin has fallen prey. With Morgause and Morgana scheming, will Camelot survive this battle on two fronts? Rated for Merlin Whump - Sequel "Bound Together" now up!
1. The Setup

Standard Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin, please support the official release

Setting the Scene: takes place during season 3, post _Crystal Cave_

* * *

Morgana smirked.

This in itself was not something worth commenting on, it was a semi-permanent expression for her as of late, but this time she was particularly pleased.

Morgause had found the perfect spell.  
A spell that would gain her revenge and allies both in one simple recitation.  
Oh it would take time, but Morgana would savor it.

The smirk grew into a dark chuckling.

It would be only too easy to draw in their prey, and this time there would be no escape.

Swirling her cloak she strode confidently out into the woods, certain she would not be alone for long.

* * *

Merlin was up late, contemplating a visit with the dragon – dreading it, more accurately.

He _needed_ to know what the witch sisters were up to.  
He'd watched Morgana's chambers for two weeks now with no sign of her midnight travails, but he _knew_ they were planning something.

He could feel it slowly driving him mad like an itch just beyond reach.

Still, the dragon was just as likely to refuse any real help, choosing instead to put him off with vague riddles and reminding him "the witch must die". Hunched over with head in hands, he sighed.

Nothing would be achieved with this fruitless pondering and so he got up, eyes drawn to the window.  
The courtyard was empty but for a few guards and- _Morgana_.

His expression set, Merlin prepared for his own rather less brazen trip outside the castle walls.

* * *

For a moment Morgana feared she may not have made her exit grand enough- until her peripheral vision revealed moonlight reflecting off a pale face, quickly concealed behind a tree.

The smirk tugged at her lips once more as she glided through the forest with renewed purpose.

* * *

The two women hugged as Merlin settled down behind a cluster of rocks and bushes.  
It was a little bit further away than he would have liked, but he also didn't fancy being chained again.

"Sister, it has been too long." Morgana said gently, a genuine smile on her face.

"Indeed, sister. But it has been worth it." Morgause grinned in return.

"You found it then?" The younger asked eagerly.

"Yes, and soon Uther and his mindless subjects will be bowing at your feet. It is but a matter of-"

Merlin peered carefully between branches to see why the conversation had stopped.  
The pair were carefully searching the woods about them with their eyes before Morgause muttered something under her breath.  
The servant sat as if rooted in place as he felt a spell radiate out from her, seeming to pass through him and into the woods beyond.

Another moment passed in tense stillness before he saw first Morgause and then Morgana relax.

"We are alone." She announced.

_Curious_. Mused the eavesdropper. _Did the spell fail?_

The was no time for further thought however, as the two were now saying their goodbyes.

Merlin crept off into the dark as they indulged in another embrace.

* * *

Gaius had fallen asleep at the table, apparently having opted to do some research sometime after his ward's departure.  
The aforementioned smiled fondly as he pulled a blanket from the patient bed.

Tucking it around his surrogate father, he gazed at his study material only to discover the man was drooling on one of his precious bestiaries.

A chuckle fought to escape his throat as he tugged the volume out and carefully wiped it clean.

This particular tome must not have seen much use for as Merlin closed it a small cloud of dust puffed out, causing him to sneeze rather spectacularly.

"Sorry Gaius." He whispered, grimacing slightly as he wiped some drops off the poor man's face with the blanket before resettling it about his aging frame.

At least he hadn't woken the man.

* * *

_Ugh._ He hated waking up sore, inevitable as it was after a day of Arthur's extended training sessions with Merlin as the target and part-time sparring partner.

_Training dummy more like._ He thought, swinging his legs out of the bed and collecting some clothing from the floor – he really should clean this up some time, not now of course.

Staring at the fabric in his hands he considered what he had overheard last night- had the sisters found some sort of artifact?  
Their conversation had not revealed nearly enough, he would have to do more spying later today.

He dressed quickly and threw open his bedroom door, pausing briefly in the doorway as a strange sensation gripped him.  
It was akin to the odd tingling one feels before shivering, but the shiver never came.

Trying to shake it off he moved toward the table, accepting some bread and cheese from Gaius.

"Is there something wrong?" The man asked him with slight concern.

"No, just– a weird feeling. Not, bad so much as... odd." He responded, a perplexed expression showing the truth behind his words.

"Must be something in the air." Gaius agreed. "I seem to be feeling it as well."  
He paused, the concern returning. "Best to be on your toes, my boy."

Merlin grinned "When am I not?" He replied, polishing off the wedge of cheese and shoving the bread in his mouth as he rushed out the door on his way to the kitchens for the prince's decidedly more lavish provender.

* * *

"Again Arthur?!" He asked incredulously. Two full days of training was just too much.

"But you seem to love it so much, I'd hate to take that joy from your life." Arthur grinned sadistically.

"I'm still feeling all the 'enjoyment' yesterday brought. I hardly need any more on top of-" a weak cough interrupted his planned rant.

"_Hon_estly Merlin, must you even cough like a girl?" the royal jibed.

"It is a servant's duty to be discreet, your pratliness. I was merely trying to avoid inconveniencing you with such a petty thing as my discomfort."  
He shifted his armload of equipment, attempting to cough into his sleeve.

"Discreet?" Arthur's eyebrows threatened to climb off his face "clearly this is another word you do not know the meaning of."

Merlin's scathing retort was cut off by a coughing fit, quickly muffled in his jacket.

Arthur sighed, thumping him on the back and nearly sending him crashing to the floor.

"Come on then, the practice target won't move itself about." He stalked off, leaving the servant to stumble after him.

* * *

Another day of being beaten and Merlin was feeling decidedly less than well.

The coughing had subsided, but breathing felt rather more difficult than it ought.

A painful sort of weakness was stealing over his limbs and he marveled that he was even managing to _hold_ the jumble of armor let alone carry it about since his brain told him even holding a kitten might have been too much to ask.

His mind seemed to be floating away from his body, leaving him in a bit of a daze.  
Where was he even going? Ah, stairs, he must be climbing them.  
Was someone talking? He surely hoped not since words seemed to be beyond him at that point.  
No more stairs– where now?

He gasped as his heart gave a great squeeze, paralyzing him for a moment– the entire world seemed to stand still while his heart skipped a beat and darkness seeped in from the edges of his vision. And then it was pumping again, racing furiously as if to make up for the moment's lapse.  
With the release of paralysis he felt his wavering muscles give out completely as he teetered on the edge...

* * *

"Are you even listening Merlin? Because-" a great crash resounded behind him and he turned around to an empty corridor.

"Merlin?" No response.

Arthur sighed, it _had_ been at least two weeks since his clumsy manservant had last fallen down the stairs so he really should have been expecting it.

Sauntering over to the stairwell he surveyed the damage.  
Pieces of his armor scattered along the way, no doubt having been dented by their unceremonious descent, and there, at the bottom was Merlin.  
Not moving.

"Merlin?" His voice had gained an edge of urgency.  
Merlin should have been up by now, gathering the armor with an embarrassed apology on his lips.

He rushed down the stairs, nearly becoming the second victim as he slipped on one of his gauntlets.

Kneeling by his side, Arthur saw that Merlin's breath was coming in quick, ragged gasps and a small pool of blood was spreading from beneath his dark hair.


	2. Diagnosis

_Merlin's breath was coming in quick, ragged gasps and a small pool of blood was spreading from beneath his dark hair._

Arthur jolted into action, quickly checking for further injury.  
His left arm was bent at an unnatural angle, broken.  
Labored breathing- broken rib? He probed gently. No, but possibly bruised.  
Anything else? Not that he could tell.  
Alright, to Gaius then.

Gingerly settling the broken arm across the man's shuddering chest, Arthur lifted the prone form, cradling his head with care as he raced to the physician's chambers as fast as he dared.

* * *

The door burst inward, startling the old man from his reverie.

"Gaius!" A distraught prince yelled, looking more than a little bit lost "He fell down the stairs, hit his head... his arm's broken and I think he may have bruised ribs, he-" a pause to swallow and inhale "he hasn't responded at all since the fall, not even when I picked him up."

Hardly hearing what was being said, Gaius had been staring at the blond's burden ever since he had come crashing in.  
"Put him on the bed– carefully!"

It was a good thing he didn't have to think about the words since he wasn't sure he was capable of it at the time.  
Forcing himself to take two steadying breaths he moved over to his ward's side, eyes and fingers taking in what was before him.

He barely needed to touch one wrinkled hand to Merlin's forehead to note the fever and sweat beginning to form.

"I'll need fresh water." He commanded absently, continuing his investigation without noticing the prince leaving, bucket in hand.

The arm was broken in two places, but no other bones seemed to be compromised.  
He eased the familiar blue shirt up to get a better look at the ribs which showed no external sign of injury.

Gaius frowned, taking a trumpet-like instrument from his kit and placing it against his patient's chest, listening to his lungs. This- this wasn't good.  
Pulling the shirt back down the physician began layering blankets atop the silent warlock.

"Merlin." No response.  
"Merlin!" He tried again, louder and shaking his good shoulder.

A slight groan reached his ears and he relaxed almost imperceptibly, surveying the pinched brow of his beloved apprentice.

Arthur reappeared with his bucket, now sloshing water over the sides in his haste.  
"How can I help?" He asked, clearly needing to do something.

"I have to set his arm. Hold him."

Arthur moved to the head of the bed, firmly gripping Merlin's shoulders and pressing him to the mattress as Gaius took the battered limb and yanked it with strength that belied his years.

This, this provoked a reaction.

Merlin screamed, eyes flying open but not seeing, struggling to rise but being effectively contained by Arthur's restraining arms.  
Kicking his legs weakly beneath the blankets, Merlin's strength gave out and he soon subsided, eyelids drooping as he once more fell into unconsciousness.

Splint in place, Gaius turned to his prince.  
"Arthur, was anything- off about Merlin today?"

Confused, Arthur struggled to respond.  
"What? No, he was his usual cheeky self, complaining about training, talking back- though he did have a bit of a cough."

"Anything else?" Gaius prompted.

"Well," this time he paused to think a bit "he sort of mentioned being sore, but that may have just been from training yesterday."

The physician nodded encouragement.

"And he seemed... _unfocused_ while I was talking to him after today's session."  
He shook his head.  
"What's this about Gaius?"

In response the elder began forcing him out of the room.  
"You need to leave, My Lord. I hope you have not already been infected."

"What? Gaius-" The door closed in his face.  
"Gaius, what are you on about?" Came the indignant, if muffled, voice.

"I believe that Merlin was unwell before falling down those stairs, and I fear I may be as well."


	3. Suspicion

"_What's this about Gaius?"_

"_I believe that Merlin was unwell before falling down those stairs, and I fear I may be as well."_

* * *

Gaius' mind was replaying the morning's events.

He had awoken feeling odd, as had Merlin.  
Circumstantial.

He had had a bit of a tickle in his throat for a couple hours but had hardly coughed – possible.

Soreness. When was he not a mass of aches and pains?

As for lack of focus, honestly, he was reaching an age at which point even _he_ might admit to a touch of senility.  
It was so hard to know; better to take the more extreme course.

While he was running through that mental checklist Arthur had been pounding on the door and making demands but had not forced his way in as of yet – good.

"Sire, I need you to do some things for me." There was immediate silence from the other side of the wood.  
"First, guards need to be posted at this door to make sure no one enters" he hesitated only a moment "or exits."

"What? Surely there's no cause for-"

"This is of the utmost importance. I'm not sure whether or not this is a contagious illness, but looking at how quickly and strongly it has affected Merlin we cannot afford to take chances. We must treat this as seriously as any confirmed plague."

Arthur paled, wanting to rush back into the room while knowing he absolutely must not.  
"What else Gaius?" His voice only slightly strained.

"You must tell your father that my chambers are under quarantine. Anyone showing two or more symptoms must be brought here – anyone with coughing, soreness, confusion, fever, or labored breathing."

He looked about his workspace.  
"I fear we will require more beds and blankets as well."

"Of course Gaius. The guards will be instructed to provide you with whatever you require. I will return after speaking with my father."

"It would be better if you didn't, Sire."

Arthur nodded despite the lack of visual contact and hurried to his tasks, thoughts and emotions churning just beneath the surface.

The sound of harsh coughing drew Gaius' attention from his thoughts.  
Merlin, only slightly conscious, had turned onto his side and was coughing over the side of the small bed.  
He rushed forward and, horrified, saw the blood dripping from his ward's mouth.

Time was running out.  
Merlin had fluid in his lungs and was quickly worsening, his already pale skin beginning to gain a blue tinge, sweat soaking his thin frame.  
Scanning his shelves he located the desired bottle and quickly turned back to his patient, helping him sit up.

"Merlin, I need you to drink this." He said as soon as the coughs subsided.

Hazy eyes swiveled toward him, not quite recognizing what was going on.

"Merlin, please!"  
Receiving no further response he gave up, holding his ward's nose and forcing the purple liquid down his throat.

Though he swallowed reflexively, it seemed that even severe illness was not enough to negate the acrid taste of the potion as the action was swiftly followed by gagging.

Gaius fetched another bucket just in time to catch the stream of water as the potion forced it out of Merlin's lungs and up through his mouth.  
Coughing a few more times to clear his throat, the manservant looked up at his mentor, eyes and nose both leaking.

"Gaius?" His voice a harsh whisper.

"I'm here, my boy. You're going to be alright."  
He tried to give a reassuring smile while taking one pale hand in his own.

"What-" a pause to drink from a proffered cup "what happened?"

"I was hoping to get that information from you."

Blue eyes continued to stare into his own, clearly confused.

"It seems you have contracted a serious malady. You fell down the stairs when you passed out. Your arm is broken, but it should heal well provided you leave it splinted and don't overdo it. You also-" Gaius swore.

Merlin looked fairly impressed- he'd never heard that one before, and wasn't entirely sure that it was physically possible.

"You have a head wound, which I have somehow forgotten until this moment. Here."  
Taking the pale face in his aged hands, the physician held back the hair above the man's left temple.

Merlin winced and sucked in a breath as gentle hands probed at the impressive lump that had formed there.

"Given your current state I can't be sure if you have a concussion or not, but at least you haven't thrown up yet."  
Rising from the stool he made his way back over to the workbench, snatching up a few potions and stashing all but one in his robes.

"Drink this, then I need you to get some sleep."

"Don't have to tell me twice." Came the weak reply as a shaky hand grasped the vial, emptying its contents down the warlock's throat.  
He settled back into the blankets, gasping once when the movement jostled his broken arm, soon falling into deep slumber.

* * *

Arthur Pendragon sat at his desk, absentmindedly twirling his feather quill between the thumb and index finger of his left hand.  
He had changed out of his earlier clothing, clothing with blood on it- _Merlin's _blood.

_What was happening?_  
Not knowing was killing him.  
He wanted to march back to Gaius and demand straight answers from the man, but was _just_ prudent enough to recognize this impulse as unwise.

His thoughts had begun to make smaller and smaller circles when Morgana burst through the door, a concerned look plastered on her face.

"I heard Merlin was injured and Gaius has closed off his chambers– what happened?"

The prince looked up into those wide eyes and sighed.

"I'm not really sure myself Morgana. Merlin fell down the stairs and managed to injure himself spectacularly- Gaius was beside himself."  
An odd shift in the woman's expression made him change what he said next, though he was unsure why.

"He quarantined his chambers because he thought he himself was ill with a potentially contagious disease. Merlin had to stay there regardless and he would have already been exposed so the two of them are shut off from the rest of the castle. No one is allowed in or out."

Was it just his imagination or did Morgana look... _vexed_ by his last sentence?

"But how will they get food and water? Surely they are not being left to suffer with what little they have?"  
Her face now looked more exasperated than worried.

"I believe some sort of apparatus is being set up to send them supplies through the windows, and there are always the guards by the door. I'm sure they will be provided for."

Seeming to have run out of patience Morgana huffed and stormed out of the room.

Arthur watched the recently slammed door with bemusement.  
_Now what was all _that _about?_

* * *

"Sister, is something wrong? Why have you called me?" Morgause asked with concern.

"That clumsy fool Merlin injured himself and the physician has him sequestered. It seems he has begun showing symptoms and has put the castle on alert against epidemic." Morgana didn't bother to hide the venom in her voice.

"The servant has magic? No one without it can be infected, not even if he _is_ the source." Morgause's eyes widened in surprise.

"No, not the idiot." She waved her hand dismissively.  
"The physician. I had heard he practiced magic before the purge, but I had always thought it a rumor."

She shook her head.  
"But now the spell is being wasted, our plans ruined by infernal clumsiness!"

She stamped her foot for emphasis.

"We will just have to hope that he infected at least one other who remains free. It is a very powerful affliction- that is all it will need to take hold."

Placated by the words of her half-sister Morgana relented.  
"Very well sister, I shall keep an eye on the progress of our little disease."

Morgause nodded.  
"Here, this is the cure- drink the whole bottle and you will not fall ill. Once empty it will automatically refill, though it will take a small amount of time."

The two clasped arms as the potion passed between them.

"Be safe, sister." Morgana smiled tenderly.

"And you as well, sister." Morgause returned the smile.


	4. Progress?

A/N: Hey guys! Thank you so much for reading, following, and favoriting! Extra gratitude goes out to those who review- you are awesome!

Special thanks to Nathalaia for pointing out my misspelling of Gaius' name. Apparently I typed it wrong the first time, added it to the dictionary, and never bothered to think about it again. Shame on me.

Just to let you all know, this fic will probably be updated on 'weekends' which for me is Friday, Saturday, and sometimes Thursday. Cliffhangers are pretty much a guarantee since they make _such_ good ending points. Chapters are also likely to be fairly short, but I'm hoping weekly updates will be enough to make up for it. *Bows*

We now return to your regularly scheduled Merlin whump, already in progress.

* * *

Eyes cracking open slowly, he stared at the ceiling and the strange blobs floating across his field of vision, glinting gently in the morning light.  
_Is that a dust bunny?_

Merlin sat up, feeling it strange that he should be in his room.  
_Why would that be?_

More spots. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms, fingers brushing against fabric.  
_What's this then?_

A bandage. He had a bandage on his head.  
_That explains the splitting headache._

Memory started coming back slowly.  
_Gaias said I had a head injury. How did that happen?  
Stairs. I fell down the stairs. Why don't I remember that?_

He shook his head, but that had definitely been a poor choice.  
Leaning over he threw up into a conveniently placed bucket.

Still a bit detached from the world, he gazed about his chambers- something was off.

It was clean. Absolutely nothing on the floor.

Looking toward the cupboard he saw his meager supply of shirts and pants neatly folded, the cupboard door still open.

_Infernal spots!_

Taking a closer look, he realized they _were_ dust bunnies.  
A veritable warren of dust bunnies joyfully marching out the open window.

It was then he became aware of the magic flowing out of him in a steady stream and a touch of panic gripped him.  
_I was doing magic in my sleep!_

Largely pointless magic, it seemed.

After that realization it became easier to accept that it was not, in fact, morning and that the walls were, in fact, the source of the gentle glow.  
_Great. Dusting, laundry, and glowing walls. Couldn't do anything _useful_ like healing this head injury._

Twisting to throw his legs over the edge of the bed, a spike of pain made him revise this thought.  
_Or my broken left arm!_

The offending limb sported a fresh cast and a sling he had somehow failed to notice until that point.

Cursed rogue magic, only good for petty chores and potentially getting him executed.

Forcing his aching body into obeisance he made it to his feet – yet another poor choice.  
The world tilted dangerously and spots danced in front of his eyes- or was that more dust bunnies?

Just managing to stop himself from shaking his head again, Merlin sank back onto the bed.

It was at this point he noticed his lack of shirt and pants, an assortment of bruises evident on his bare skin, and also that his bedding was sweat-soaked.

_Do I have a fever?_  
Placing a hand on his own forehead for a moment he then dropped his arm, feeling foolish at the attempt.

After an extended period of staring into space he decided to try standing up again.

This time he dropped like a rock, landing in an inglorious heap on the floor- which felt blessedly cool.  
_Unquestionably feverish- and stupid._

He lay there for a moment, watching the dust streaming out from under his bed.

That seemed important somehow... animated dust, magically drifting out the window to freedom...  
_Magic!_

Rolling onto his back, he attempted to rein in the golden flow, now almost visibly moving between him and his bed linens.

Fear gripped his heart as the current increased, his blankets whipping themselves off the bed frame one by one, repelling dirt and sweat which joined the procession out into the night sky. The sheets were next, following the example of their more fuzzy brethren as the blankets formed a neat stack of their own accord, settling onto the lone chair in the room.

As the sheets returned to the mattress a quilt worked itself free and settled over Merlin's prone form.  
It was warm- too much so in his fevered state– but he hadn't the energy or attention to remove it.

The warlock was desperate and feeling nearly empty as everything in the room elected to glow.  
_Perfect_. He thought, blacking out once more.

* * *

When next he woke the room was properly dark and he absently gestured to light the candle by magic.

Nothing happened.

Snapping to attention Merlin looked inward to find... nothing. Had he somehow used all his magic?  
_Impossible! I have much more magic than what those parlor tricks used!_ He thought indignantly.

Wait, there it was, a small trickle just beginning to collect.  
_What is going on?_

He stood, then stopped to appreciate his ability to do so.  
_Did my magic heal me?_

Rubbing his forehead and subsequently bumping his still-painful head wound, the servant decided the best course of action would be to find Gaius– the first sound decision he had made in hours.

* * *

"Gaius ."

The voice of his ward caused him to turn in surprise, nearly upsetting the steaming beaker in front of him.  
He stood in the doorway to his room, quilt clutched about himself with one hand.

"Merlin! I was just about to check on you – you shouldn't be up."

His disapproving look went unnoticed as the awkward youth stumbled down the steps and wobbled towards the workbench, pausing to notice the two new beds in the room which were occupied by slumbering kitchen maids.

"They seem to have been stricken by the same illness you- we have. Though not as severely as you, thankfully."  
He gestured for his ward to take a seat.

Relaxing onto the stool Merlin cocked his head questioningly.  
"Illness?" Then looked guiltily toward the two sleeping figures.

Nodding, he replied "Don't worry, I dosed them enough to sleep well into the afternoon. And yes, Merlin, you were seriously ill- I can't believe you're out of bed!"

He knew he sounded accusatory, but that was just as well.

"I think- " blue eyes cast about as the younger man leaned forward, voice pitched to a conspiratorial whisper "I think my magic may have healed me."

He scoffed lightly.

"Well, the sickness anyway."  
He weakly raised his broken arm and rolled his eyes toward the crisp linen gracing his head.

Gaius froze, also looking about, before relaxing slightly and also nodding.  
"But you should still be in bed. That head wound could be serious."  
He smothered a cough in one voluminous sleeve.

"I- I may have thrown up a few minutes ago... and my balance is a bit off- more than usual."  
He said in response to the raised eyebrows and slight smile on his mentor's face.

"Headache too, I presume."

Merlin made it halfway through a nod before wincing and abandoning the effort.

"But there's more Gaius," he lowered his voice even further "my magic just... used itself up. While I was sleeping and even after I woke up it just kind of... rushed out of me, doing whatever it felt like and now it's almost gone. It _was_ gone for a moment, but it started coming back bit by bit. I have a fair amount back now, but nowhere near what I usually have."

He sent a mental probe toward the pool of magic that had collected so far.  
Maybe it was because there was so much less of it than normal, but it didn't feel right.

The physician shuffled back to the beaker, beginning to measure the now-cool liquid into vials with a practiced eye.

"I know not what this means, but I fear it bodes ill." He sighed.  
"But perhaps it was just part of the healing process. It is so hard to tell with you- can't you just be ordinary for once?"  
He gave his surrogate son a fond smile, which was returned twofold.

"Now, help me stock these potions. I've made a fair amount but I fear it will not be enough. We only have a few now, but there's no telling how many people will need treatment."

He coughed again into his sleeve.

An earlier comment made itself known to Merlin then.  
"Gaius, you said 'we' were ill. Did you mean-" he dropped off, not wanting to complete the thought lest it somehow affect the reality.

A sad smile.  
"Yes, Merlin. I have this... whatever it is. It is developing slowly, but I fear I may be bedridden within the next day or two. _That_ is why it is imperative that I complete these potions. Identifying the disease will do no good if my patients die while I'm researching."

Nevertheless the elder began pulling books off his shelves while the younger placed the medicines in their appropriate locations.

Emptying his hands Merlin turned to grip the table.  
His magic reserves were increasing more quickly now, as was the feeling of wrongness.

And why did he suddenly feel so _heavy?_  
He groaned with the effort of remaining upright, sore legs protesting the need to fight against gravity.

"Gaius, I think I-" He broke off as the coughing started, good hand flying up to cover his mouth.

Through dim eyes he noticed the physician rushing to his side as he doubled over, eyes wide in panic over his inability to inhale.  
Seeing the floorboards growing dangerously close he thrust his hand out to catch himself, just as he managed to draw in a breath.  
A breath that _rattled_.


	5. Ragball

A/N: Another short one. I was going to continue but it didn't flow properly due to the time shift.  
Anyway, there may be a delay in updates as I am moving this weekend and may spend some time without computer and/or internet access (big downside to having a desktop). I hope to have chapter 6 up before then, but I'm on crazy overtime this week so it'll probably be short if I can finish it at all. Fingers crossed. Is there an emoticon for that? Probably something ridiculous if it exists.

But enough of this nonsense, let's see what Arthur's been up to.

* * *

Arthur sat at his desk, staring at the parchment in his hand.  
He had read through the short message a dozen times now and still had no idea what it said.  
With a sigh he tossed it aside and stood, moving toward his open window.

Only a couple of hours had passed since he had relayed Gaius' words to the king and already so much had happened.

Uther had forbidden all travel in and out of the castle, stranding any castle workers and visitors who did not live with its walls. Cots were being set up in all areas of the castle to accommodate those who had no chambers of their own and the kitchen staff were bustling about with extra fervor to compensate for the extra mouths and stomachs.

Glancing down into the courtyard he saw some off-duty guards engaged in some sort of game using a ball of rags as a crowd of servants cheered and booed.

A slight smile tugged at his lips- it was comforting to see morale had yet to be affected by the threat hanging over them.  
Then again, it had only been a short time.

This unpleasant thought returned him to his brooding.  
He could hardly stand not knowing what was going on with Merlin.  
Not that he was worried, of course, simply _distracted_.

He left his room with the intention of getting some answers, nearly colliding with Morgana who had been approaching his door.

Though surprised at her sudden appearance, he still noticed Morgana's out-of-place expression.  
She was _infuriated_.

A moment later and a concerned mask had slipped into place as if the rage had never been.

Disturbed at his observations, Arthur had to pull himself back to the one-sided conversation.  
"-but the guards _still_ wouldn't let me through. Can you believe that, Arthur? How am I supposed to know what's going on if they won't even let me into the wing?"

_That _caught Arthur's attention.  
"What? They've shut off that entire wing of the castle?"

She glared at him reproachfully "Yes, Arthur. Your Father had the adjoining rooms filled with beds for the sick and then forbade all healthy persons from entering. Only the guards remain. If you'd been _listening_-"

Temporarily pushing aside his suspicions Arthur went into Prince mode, his expression darkening.  
"I know what to do about this."

He swept out of the room, Morgana smirking slightly in his wake.

* * *

Several minutes of wasted argument later, Arthur had given up on getting past the guards and instead stood beneath the window of Gaius' chambers. There were guards posted here as well and Morgana narrowed her eyes at the sight of them.

Mostly ignoring her, the prince conferred with the guard nearest him.  
"I understand you've set up some sort of communication system here?"

The guard nodded sharply.  
"Yes Sire. Simply pull this rope and a bell will ring in the infirmary. The court physician will answer and either words or items can be passed. There is a similar rope inside so the ill can contact us as well."

"Thank you." Focused on the rope, Arthur failed to notice the guard's slight shock at being thanked for such a small service.

Gaius appeared in the window shortly after the bell rang, eyes hidden by the glare off his reading glasses.  
A slight smile formed when he saw who had called.  
"Sire, how can I help you?" He called down.

Aware of Morgana's presence at his side, he phrased his reply carefully.  
"I came to inquire of Merlin's- _injuries_."

The deliberate word choice did not escape the elder, but if he was surprised it didn't show on his face.

His voice was grave when he answered.  
"His arm should heal well and his ribs are not broken, but I fear the head injury may be very serious. I will know more when next he wakes."

Aching to press for more detail but painfully aware of the numerous eyes on him, Arthur gave a nod.  
"Right. Send word if there is any change."

The old man's face softened further.  
"Of course, Sire."

Arthur returned to his chambers to brood, Gaius returned to his workbench, and Morgana remained in the courtyard looking slightly pleased.


	6. For Whom the Bell Tolls

A/N: Here it is, chapter six, just barely getting written before my move begins tomorrow.  
Now, to continue packing (yes, I really did wait until the last minute with that task).

* * *

_Merlin's good hand flew up to cover his mouth as the coughing took hold of him.  
He doubled over and started to fall to the floor, right arm shooting out to halt his descent._

Gaius felt his heart clench once more as he saw the blood on the supporting hand.  
_Not again. Why is this happening again?_

Digging frantically in his sleeves, he pulled out a familiar purple potion and rushed forward.

Feeling arms supporting him, Merlin struggled to inhale and was rewarded with the vile substance following after the breath.  
Once more his lungs forced out the liquid that had collected there– mostly onto the unassuming quilt which had somehow remained about his shoulders throughout the coughing fit.

Panting, the warlock heaved himself upright as a memory was forcing its way through the fog in his mind.  
He still didn't quite remember, but it was important so he had to say something before he lost it completely.

"Morganause"  
_Wait, that isn't right..._ _try again_.

"Fores'... plan... re'c..."  
_This isn't going well..._

The physician's brow furrowed in confusion as he helped his ward back to his bed, lids drooping over blue eyes.

A tear of frustration leaked from one eye as Merlin sank back into unconsciousness.

* * *

Leaving a cool cloth on his ward's brow, Gaius left the small room to see to his other patients.

People had been arriving in a fairly steady stream during the seven hours since Merlin's relapse.  
Most had only two or three minor symptoms but a few were more seriously afflicted.  
Since the entire wing of the castle was now available to him Gaius had separated the afflicted according to the severity of their indicants.

The two kitchen maids had been moved to a different room as the worst were here in Gaius' chambers; Merlin being isolated in his own room (apart from the physician's visits).

Currently there were only three others in his workroom, a traveling merchant trapped inside when the lockdown was announced, a noblewoman visiting from a neighboring kingdom, and a young boy who was usually responsible for starting the morning fires of those without a personal servant.

These three all had strong fevers and coughs as well as terrible body aches and were currently resting fitfully under the influence of Gaius' sleeping draught.

Having bathed each sweating face with cool water he resettled cooling pads on each forehead before shuffling over to the table currently overburdened with potions and books.

It was getting harder to stand with each passing moment, but he wouldn't sit- he might not be able to get back up.  
He _had_ to get this done.

Grabbing a rack of multicolored vials he reentered Merlin's room and set it on his side table, making sure the labels were visible from the bed.

Leaning against the door leading to the hallway, Gaius called softly to the guards just outside.  
The door didn't open, but the pair responded, asking what they could do for the elder.

"I fear I will soon succumb to the disease, but the victims still require care. Could you please ask for volunteers from amongst the strongest? I have everything prepared, but will need to instruct them."

"Yes, sir." Came the response, followed by the sound of retreating footsteps.

Returning to his table, Gaius finally allowed himself to sit, glancing over his research once more.

The disease simply didn't make any sense. It had infected nearly fifty so far, but effected most only slightly (in fact there had been some sort of raucous dice tournament going on the last he had checked on the room housing those who had little more than a weak cough).

Despite having reached so many, they were still relatively isolated cases, each unfortunate having little to do with the others.  
Many were visitors, some were kitchen staff, there was a stable hand or two, a few nobles (who had insisted on having their own private sick rooms), people from here and there in the castle, one guard...

Gaius paused to appreciate the guards currently aiding with the sick. All who had been posted nearby when the quarantine was formed had been pressed into service as runners as well as keeping the healthy out, the sick in, and just generally being useful while also effectively being prisoners themselves.

There were only a few so they had formed two shifts, half of them sleeping in a makeshift barracks in one of the larger rooms. For the most part they seemed to be handling the situation bravely, with only one or two showing fear in their eyes whenever they had to deal with the stricken.

This tugged at his thoughts.

_Only one guard has fallen. They have had as much exposure as I, and more than most and yet only one is ill. How could such an apparently infectious disease behave this way?_

Suddenly facts began falling into place.  
_Magic!_

Why hadn't he thought of it before? Gaius blamed the mind-numbing effects of the ailment.  
Realization bloomed as part of Merlin's earlier slurred speech became clear to him.

_Morgana and Morgause._  
He must have witnessed another of their secret meetings.  
_A trap,_ _perhaps?_

But what was the motive?  
To weaken the castle's defenses?  
If so, that had gone a bit awry.

Well, not completely, considering Merlin's state; but he doubted that was the original goal.

What determined who contracted the illness and who didn't?  
This train of thought was important, he knew, but the fog was pressing in on him.

Deciding to prioritize, he scribbled a hasty note addressed to Arthur, the effort taking all his attention as his eyesight blurred.  
_No time for that._

Another note bearing instructions for whomever replaced him.

_Magic._  
The word ghosted across his thoughts once more and he lurched from the bench, reaching for a dark brown tome from an upper shelf.

He had been right earlier, standing up was too much for him.  
The volume slipped from lax fingers as the old man crumpled to the floor.

A few feet away, a bell rang.


	7. They Toll for You

A/N: Finally got my internet back! (Darned Labor Day weekend meant everything was backed up.)  
This one feels a bit wordy to me, not my favorite, but I hope you enjoy it regardless.

Thank you again for all the reviews/favorites/follows, I enjoy staring at them while I'm working out details in between typing (yes, I actually do that). As to the comment about cliffhangers- yes, I do have to torture you. But you're still better off than Merlin so be glad ^_~.

In other news, spell check does not believe in the word 'snuck'. This saddens me.

* * *

Arthur paced the length of his chambers, thoughts on his idiot manservant.

The prince had encountered his father when returning from his previous trip to the sick wing and was immediately confined to his quarters until such time as the epidemic had passed.

Not that he had any intention of _staying_ confined, mind you, but it made his plans a bit more difficult to carry out.

Glancing out the window Arthur was pleased to note that Morgana had finally left.  
She had spent an inordinate amount of time simply standing in the courtyard smirking to herself.  
He had found that unnerving to say the least.

Pausing to compose himself, he put his half-formed plan into action.

"Guards!"

At his shout the two posted outside his door (to keep him inside) burst in, weapons at the ready.  
Looks of confusion were beginning to form on their faces as Arthur proceeded to knock them out, having hidden behind the door in order to take them unawares.

"Sorry about that."

He didn't sound all that apologetic.

* * *

There had been a few tense moments spent hiding behind furniture and tapestries but he had finally made it to the courtyard.

Another game of ragball had started up, this time the players seemed to be servants enjoying a slight lull in responsibilities between breakfast and lunch.

Perfect.

Arthur edged over to a cluster of spectators and pulled two aside, handing them some gold and whispering instructions.  
The two nodded and grinned.

As their future ruler snuck behind the crowd, one man turned to the other and punched him in the face.

* * *

A commotion was quickly forming amongst the crowd, but neither guard was particularly interested in getting involved.  
They looked at each other as if to say '_Well, aren't you going to do something about that?'_

While they were avoiding the inevitable, the fight had turned into an all-out brawl involving most of the men present and even a few of the women.  
With long-suffering sighs the two guards left their post, quickly getting pulled into the scuffle themselves.

* * *

All obstacles gone, Arthur approached the rope and rang the bell softly, trying not to attract attention.

A moment passed and Gaius hadn't appeared.  
He rang again, louder.  
And again.

Where _was_ the man?

Worry was starting to take hold of Arthur as he stared up at the window.  
One more ring.  
He almost sighed in relief as a face appeared, but frowned when it was an unfamiliar woman who answered his call.

"Sire!" She said, clearly startled.

"Where is Gaius?" He asked, fearing the answer.

Bowing slightly, she replied "He has fallen ill, Sire. The fever grew too great for him to bear. I have just now settled him into bed."

"And who are you?" He inquired, trying not to sound accusatory.

"Maria, my Lord. I have had some small experience helping Gaius during battles. I have read his instructions and will be tending to the infected in his place."

"I thank you for your service" the Prince replied almost off-hand.  
"What of my servant, Merlin? He was the first affected."

He almost managed to keep the worry from his voice. _Almost_.

The substitute nurse smiled fondly, nearly everyone knew of the closeness between the prince and his servant- and of the prince's forced aloofness in regard to their relationship. Then the smile faded.

"I'm afraid I don't know, Your Highness, but I fear it is not good. Gaius instructed that none should enter his room."

Arthur paled.  
_Surely he wasn't already dead?_

Seeming to divine his thoughts, Maria rushed to reassure him.  
"He is alive, I hear him coughing even now, but I believe he is still asleep."

Releasing the breath he hadn't realized he was holding, Arthur was about to inquire further when the woman interrupted him.

"Oh! Sorry, Sire, but I just remembered- Gaius left a note for you."  
She disappeared briefly and returned with a letter in hand.

Placing it in a bucket she lowered it down to Arthur via a pulley system he hadn't properly noticed before.  
As he reached for the missive, the loud peeling of the warning bells filled the air.

Arthur stuffed the letter inside his jacket, rushing through the hastily dispersing crowd of combatants and nearly knocking Leon to the cobblestones in his haste.

"Sire!" The knight cried.  
"Morgause is approaching the city with a small army. She will arrive within the hour."

Arthur nodded, eyes glinting like steel.  
"Gather the knights and soldiers. We will ride out to meet her."

Sir Leon spun on his heels and ran off to carry out his duty.

With a final glance at the window Arthur turned toward the armory.


	8. Slipping Away

A/N: So I've recently come across a large number of fics that feature Merlin falling down stairs (usually while carrying armor) and getting a head injury.  
Even Arthur's immediate reaction and the narration bits are similar to mine...

I can only comfort myself with the fact that I have thus far not found any others where his arm was also broken _and_ he was ill. Yes, I am now comforting myself with my own cruelty toward a fictional character.

So, here we have another of my attempts at avoiding unpacking. Enjoy (I command it).

* * *

The horses danced underneath their riders, the sight of the enemy mounts making them impatient.

Like the horses, Arthur knew what was coming- and he wasn't pleased.  
Morgause's army was small, not more than two hundred mercenaries, probably less.  
Arthur had double that in soldiers alone- but he couldn't be happy about it.

This was just... wrong. It was too suspicious.  
What did she hope to achieve with so few?  
She wasn't even casting any magic as far as Arthur could tell.  
He gazed into the woods to their left. Were they being flanked right now?

Shaking his head he turned to Leon.  
"Take half of the soldiers and ten of the knights, use a wedge formation and wait until she makes a move. I will stay here with the rest and watch for support forces."

The knight nodded and began picking his men as the prince returned to his musings.  
Normally he would lead the charge himself, but he could sense there was something more important he should be doing- if only he could figure out what that was.

He shifted in his saddle and a crinkling sound drew his attention.  
_Gaius' note... I'd forgotten about it._

Pulling the parchment from his jacket he unfolded it and squinted at the messy writing.  
Clearly the physician had already been severely weakened when he had scrawled this but Arthur still managed to get the gist of his message.

Yanking his horse's reins, Arthur shouted to a nearby knight, giving him command over the secondary force as he himself raced back to Camelot.

In his last lucid moments Gaius had given him an important warning, three really.  
There was a traitor in the castle, the illness was a magical attack, and that meant Morgause was likely just a distraction.

* * *

Merlin woke to the sound of coughing.  
Unfortunately for him, he was the one producing said coughs.  
_Lovely._

Opening bleary eyes he spotted an array of potions next to his bed, helpfully labeled with the symptoms they treated.

Not particularly caring to read them all he simply grabbed one of each and downed them one after the other- until he reached the sleeping draught.

Did he really want to sleep again?  
It certainly wasn't pleasant being awake, be he had the feeling important things needed to be done.

His thoughts were interrupted by the need to vomit into an already half-full bucket by his bed- mostly water.  
This seemed unpleasantly familiar to him, but his brain was still fuzzy and he couldn't seem to remember much of anything.

Preparing to stand up, he took stock of the situation.

Clearly he was ill, his arm was broken, he probably had a concussion... anything else?  
_Isn't that enough?_

Feeling the various potions taking hold, he cautiously stood up and began making his way to his cupboard.

Had Gaius put his clothes away?  
No, that didn't seem right.  
Despite feeling there was significance behind this event his thoughts refused to stay on track, instead choosing to wander freely.  
The grain of the floorboards was suddenly fascinating to him, for example.

Prying his eyes from the floor he grabbed a pair of trousers and a tunic, sitting on the edge of his bed and struggling with the former.

Having conquered the leg-wear he then looped the tunic around his head and got his right arm in, suddenly realizing his dilemma.  
Even if he could get the sleeve onto his left arm the cast would never fit.

Frowning at the offending garment he attempted to rip the seams with magic.  
Nothing.

Another attempt.  
Another failure.

Merlin sighed.  
_Why can nothing just work smoothly?_

There was murmuring in the main room, followed by a slight 'thud'.  
_Gaius must be up and about then._

After struggling in vain for several minutes Merlin finally gave in. His shirt was now bunched up around his neck, right arm partially suspended by the constricting fabric, and he was too exhausted to even attempt pulling it off.

Slight desperation finally overruled embarrassment and he turned to the door, intent on getting Gaius' aid.

* * *

With the castle full of people running about in response to the alarm it was easy for Morgana to slip past the guards unnoticed- though the sleeping spell might have helped.

She entered the physician's chambers confidently, only being surprised for a moment at the presence of a maid.  
She repeated her incantation and the woman fell to the floor.

Turning to the patient beds, she paused at the sound of activity in Merlin's room.  
_Perhaps a bit of pleasure before getting down to business?_

Morgana grinned as the door opened and the idiot tumbled out, completely unaware of his predicament.

* * *

"Gaius I-" he stopped abruptly, noticing Morgana next to the prone form of a maid on the floor.  
"What have you done?"

He was trying to be intimidating, but knew that his appearance made it nearly impossible.

His former friend looked as if she wanted to laugh at him outright- and so she did.  
It was a cruel sound, not at all like the Morgana he used to know.

"Look at the hero now! Tell me, Merlin, how can you prepare Arthur every day and yet not be able to dress yourself?"

Merlin angrily tugged at his shirt to no avail, leaving most of his bruised torso still on display.  
_Nothing like the heckling of an enemy to focus a concussed brain._ He inwardly mocked himself.

The witch sauntered toward him, gesturing at the sick as she passed them.  
"How have you been enjoying my work?"  
Her cruel smile grew.  
"Or should I say _our_ work?"

"And what do you mean by that?" Merlin growled.

"Oh Merlin, you didn't honestly think I wouldn't notice you following me?"

The warlock narrowed his eyes, shifting his stance to compensate for his failing balance.

"In fact, I was _counting_ on you following me. Surely you noticed that spell my sister cast?"

_Now_ he remembers, and with the memory came realization.  
He paled.  
"No."

"Yes." Morgana looked like a cat with a canary in its paws, playing with it for amusement.  
"_You_ are the source of the disease. Anyone near you is exposed, and everyone fulfilling the right requirements is infected- there is no chance of escaping it."

She pulled a regretful face.  
"A pity you yourself will not fall ill."

"What do you mean?"  
Merlin tried to hide the confusion in his voice, going for curiosity instead.

"This disease, _Mer_lin, affects magic. Anyone with even a hint of it will contract the bug as soon as they near another victim. The more magic they have, the worse the symptoms. It's really quite unpleasant, though not fatal."

Merlin had his doubts about that last part, at least in his own case.

"And what do you gain by harming your own kin Morgana? Surely you don't think this will weaken Camelot's defenses enough for you to take over."

"So shortsighted! I'm here to recruit, Merlin. It's simply too suspicious if I continue to go out into the woods. If even _you_ noticed it's only a matter of time until someone else does. Besides, one can never have too many spies." She smiled with false sweetness.

"You think making them ill will make people want to join you?"

"Ah, but they would never suspect the king's ward of doing such a thing. Besides, I have the antidote right here."  
She held up a vial of pearlescent liquid, waving it tauntingly.

"A clever piece of magic, once a dose is taken it automatically refills with another. Every drop must be finished or it has no effect whatsoever, but drink it all and the disease will never affect you again."

She slipped the cure into a small purse hanging off her belt as if daring him to steal it.

Morgana was walking toward him once more but paused, nearly clapping her hands with delight as she saw the occupant of the fourth bed.

"Why Gaius! You must be more powerful than I thought!" She swept the sweat-filled hair from the old man's forehead.  
"Just look at what your precious ward has done to you" she cooed mockingly.

"That's _enough_ Morgana." Merlin was fuming.

On Gaius' workbench a potion left over a fire exploded, releasing a thick smoke into the room.

_Did I do that?_  
He could only hope.

Morgana flung out a hand, "**hleap on bæc!**"

Merlin faked a stumble to hide the flash of his eyes.

Unfortunately his eyes didn't flash and his balance was even more untrustworthy than usual, resulting in a full-body embrace with the floor.  
On the plus side it did allow him to avoid Morgana's attack, which succeeded only in knocking down a shelf laden with books.

Grimacing at the pain he crawled into the ever-thickening smoke, now thankful for the bunched-up shirt currently covering his nose and mouth.

The witch glared into the smoke "**ábláwan!**"

A wind blew through the room, clearing most of the smoke and revealing a distinct lack of pitiful manservant.

"It's futile to hide, Merlin" she crooned, regarding the workbench with suspicion.  
Something glinted in her peripheral vision and she hastened to deflect it **"acwele!"**

The vial exploded, showering the sorceress with glass and a yellow potion.  
Morgana screamed and sank to the floor as angry red welts formed where the liquid had splashed, a rash quickly spreading across her delicate skin.

Inching forward underneath a bed Merlin reached out and pulled the remedy from Morgana's purse, grasping it in his good hand as he scurried to Gaius' side.

Getting the old man properly situated for drinking was more complicated with one hand than he would have guessed, but he eventually managed it. Briefly glancing back at the furiously shrieking Morgana, Merlin uncorked the vial and poured the potion down the physician's throat, massaging until he swallowed.

Seeing no immediate result he tore his worried gaze from his mentor and moved on to the serving boy in the next bed, watching impatiently as the glass slowly refilled.

Morgana, meanwhile, had pulled herself up and was now aiming a dagger at her nemesis.  
**"Swilte, Merlin!"**

Feeling as if time had slowed down– had it? _No such luck–_ the powerless warlock watched as the blade shot toward him, guided by magic.  
It was the dagger Arthur had given her.

If he currently had room for logical thought in his head Merlin might have wondered why he wasted his last moments considering the implications and significance of this fact, but as it was he could do naught but stare at his approaching doom.

He was considering closing his eyes when his vision was instead blocked by a solid wall of shining metal and red fabric.  
_What-?_

Arthur. Arthur was standing in front of him, guarding him with sword, armor, and body.

The magic, however, was still in play and the weapon swerved around this new obstacle to bury itself in Merlin's previously uninjured right forearm.  
He gave a bark of pain as his arm jerked, sending the vial soaring through the air.

"No!" He shouted, diving along its arc only to land inches short as the glass broke.

A bright light shone from the shattered vessel and as the magic dissipated so did the shards and life-restoring liquid.


	9. Of Wrath

A/N: Thank you thank you thank you to everyone who has reviewed- I'm not gonna lie, you all make me grin like an idiot.

As for everyone commenting on the deliciousness of Merlin whump: there's no need to feel guilty. This is a disease even more virulent then the unnamed magical ailment of this story. Truly resistance is futile.

In other news, I was doing really well writing this and everyone would've gotten two chapters in quick succession if it weren't for my internet going out in spectacular fashion. And by spectacular I mean my modem shot sparks and started smoking. Yeah. But that's fixed now so yay!

Now, let's see Arthur go Medieval on Morgana.

* * *

_Merlin's arm jerked, sending the vial soaring through the air.  
A bright light shone from the shattered vessel and as the magic dissipated so did the shards and life-restoring liquid._

Merlin lay sprawled on the floor, bleeding arm outstretched in vain.  
He stared at the now vacant spot in shock and horror and the slight energy reserves he had left all at once, leaving him completely limp.

His breath came in short wheezes, beleaguered lungs and ribs now further compressed by the casted arm pinned beneath his body.

Coming to his senses ever-so-slightly, Merlin tried to get up and rejoin the battle only to find his limbs unresponsive.  
Resting for a moment, he tried again and managed some minimal movement in his extremities.

_This is probably a good time to panic._

Despite that thought Merlin remained oddly calm.

_The potions are wearing off._

Once again this didn't disturb him as much as it ought.

_I wonder if this is what a turtle feels like when it's stranded on its back..._

Merlin had seen that happen once when a crowd of village boys had found a turtle and flipped it over just to have a laugh at its wildly flailing limbs.

Breathing really was becoming a serious concern now as blackness began to take over his vision.  
He revised his earlier assessment.

_Maybe it's more like drowning._

And with that pleasant thought Merlin drifted off into oblivion.

* * *

Arthur remained crouched in a defensive posture as his servant crashed to the floor, clearly distraught.  
Not realizing the significance of the vial he focused solely on Morgana, not even noticing the flash of light.

"What's this about Morgana?"  
His voice was firm. He may have no idea what was going on, but it was rather clear who the villain was in this situation.

Arthur shook his head as if it might change what he had seen- what he _was _seeing.  
Morgana, the king's ward, a woman who was like an obnoxious sister to him, was a sorceress; had attacked _Merlin_ of all people.

The prince had had varying opinions on magic up to this point, but it was rather clear that his childhood companion was evil.  
_How long? _He thought desperately to himself. _Has everything been a lie?_

Shoving aside the myriad of other emotions, Arthur embraced his anger- time enough for the more girly feelings afterward.

"Answer me!" He shouted belligerently, trying not to worry about the person suffering in relative silence behind him.

The witch smirked in return.  
"Oh I'm only doing a little recruiting, but if I can get rid of some pests at the same time so much the better."

She muttered something into her palm and extended it toward Arthur, the resultant fireball narrowly missing his blond locks as he dodged to the side.

_Gaius won't be happy about that scorch mark on the wall._  
Once more shaking his head the royal berated himself.  
_This really isn't the time for such thoughts. Focus Arthur._

Nevertheless he snuck a glance at Merlin who was still lying where he had fallen, arm extended with the dagger sticking through it.  
He wanted to rush to his side, but the wound didn't seem to be bleeding overly much and he could hear the man breathing.

_A bit too loudly._  
He grimaced at the painful wheezes as he turned to face his foe.

From his current position he could lunge forward and impale Morgana in one motion, if he stepped back both he and Merlin would be open for attack.

It really was unfair, plain steel against magic- and Arthur was only thinking about the difference in range.

While he was distracted Morgana had been chanting a somewhat longer spell and the rash along with the welts began to recede.  
Thankful for her vanity, Arthur charged headlong, aiming a slash at her legs in an attempt to limit her mobility.

The witch whirled away, snarling and drawing her own sword.  
Steel clashed against steel and the prince realized he was at a disadvantage.

Magic aside, Morgana had long been skilled with a blade and Arthur found he was still reticent to strike a fatal blow to someone who had been such a close ally a matter of hours ago.

_Or so I had thought._

Surveying his opponent he couldn't help but notice the crazed blood lust in the now-unfamiliar eyes.  
His resolve hardened, Arthur stepped forward and forced the woman back against the wall.  
Sword against her pale throat, he drew his dagger and pressed it to her side, fine fabric puckering under the pressure.

"Undo your spell, _sorceress_."  
He forced as much contempt into the word as he could, trying not to be ill at the cruel gleam in the gaze of his former friend.

A thin trail of red formed as she replied smugly.  
"Oh but it isn't _my _spell- though I dare say it'll never be removed if I die."

Narrowing his eyes Arthur glared at her, trying to gauge the truth of this statement.  
He didn't like what he saw.

Cursing softly, he relaxed just enough for Morgana to shout **"Tæfle!"**

Twisting in the air, Arthur barely missed colliding with the worktable only to crash against the rather unavoidable wall.  
Scrambling to his knees, he only had time to clutch at the bench before freezing in place.

The witch was seated on the floor next to Merlin, skirts artfully arrayed, his head in her lap as if she were sharing a private moment with a lover.  
Caressing the pale face, Morgana turned her vicious gaze toward Arthur.

"He really doesn't seem to be doing too well, does he? Perhaps I should take him along to meet Morgause- I'm sure we could take _good_ care of him."

Placing her face alongside Merlin's she adopted a doe-eyed look.  
"We make _such_ a good couple, don't you think?"

Pale lids fluttered and unfocused blue eyes gazed upwards for a moment before drifting closed once more, as if consciousness didn't seem all that attractive just now.

Arthur didn't blame him.

Morgana laughed at his stony silence- a laugh that was abruptly cut off by the appearance of her own sword sticking through her stomach.


	10. With the Wind

A/N: Oh snap, what's all this then? Arthur doesn't get the final strike after all.  
But for all you guys who thought I killed Morgana: sorry to disappoint.

So a couple weeks ago I went back and updated the earlier chapters with better formatting, but now I see that it never took. What's up with that? I do not appreciate this.  
Whatevs, let's see who made with the stabbing (though I'll warn you right here: there's another cliffhanger at the end. You really should expect it by now).

* * *

His vision was hazy, but maybe that had something to do with the smoke hanging in the air, slowly dissipating through the various gaps and cracks in walls, doors, and windows.

Looking around he made out three figures on the floor, sitting still and conversing softly.  
Concentrating on the voice he had no trouble identifying the speaker- Morgana.

Moving as swift and stealthily as possible he circled round the group, positioning himself behind the dark lady though still uncertain as to what exactly he should be doing.

A glint of metal caught his attention and he spied a sword, thoughtlessly discarded at the witch's side.  
Reaching for the weapon he realized for the first time who it was in the woman's grasp and thought was no longer necessary.

Seeing her lean back from her hostage to let out a chilling laugh, he thrust the blade forth with all his strength- and if he used a little magic to help plunge it through to the other side who could blame a feeble old man?

* * *

Arthur was in shock- Gaius had just stabbed Morgana.  
_Gaius_ had just _stabbed_ Morgana!

Where had he even come from?  
Wasn't he seriously ill?

After all this he might never be surprised again.  
_Unless Merlin were to suddenly declare his undying love of stable-mucking._

Thinking about his manservant was enough to sober the prince up immediately.

Casting about himself he located his sword and shakily got to his feet, shuffling forward to survey and regain control of the situation.

Fortunately Merlin was unharmed despite his proximity to Morgana during her impaling, though it seems his position in the witch's arms had been helping him breathe as he was now back on his face desperately gasping for air.

"Sister!" Morgana choked out, a whirlwind beginning to form in the room as Gaius and Arthur attempted to reach Merlin.

"Morgana!" Morgause cried in a voice both outraged and pained as she materialized in front of the King's ward.

The wind abating, Arthur darted forward to plant his sword against the throat of this new threat.  
"Dispel your curse or you will be worse off than she." He demanded in a voice colder than ice.

Obviously affected by Morgana's plight, Morgause was not as condescending in her reply as she would otherwise be.  
"I will make you a deal, Pendragon."

Arthur's eyes narrowed as he pressed the blade further in response.

"Allow me to leave with my sister and I will leave you to tend to your ailing servant."  
Giving a sly look to the frail body behind her she continued nonchalantly.  
"You should make your decision quickly, it sounds like he may be suffocating."

The royal's attention shifted and he instantly saw the truth in those words.  
Merlin needed help _now_.

His moment of distraction was enough for Morgause to give a shout, the wind rising once again to push the physician and warrior off their feet as the magical sisters disappeared.

Arthur scrambled toward Merlin, deeply relieved he had been left here and not spirited away by his enemies.  
Gaius was only a moment behind him, the two rolling the man over quickly while being mindful of his injuries.

Unnerved by the blueness of the now upturned face Arthur took up the position Morgana had been filling only moments before and set about checking his pulse, not knowing what else to do while Gaius was fussing at the newly wounded right arm.

Despite the physician's inarticulate muttering the room seemed incredibly quiet of a sudden and a dreadful understanding entered the Prince's mind.

"Gaius" he said, voice coming out much smaller and more strained than he had intended.

"I think his arm should heal with little problem, Sire, though it will probably bleed profusely when we remove the dagger."

"Gaius!" He said more urgently as the man continued to ramble.  
Words didn't seem to be coming out properly so he clutched at the aged hand and moved it up to rest against a mostly bare and entirely too still chest.

Merlin had stopped breathing.


	11. A Moment's Rest

A/N: So all throughout this story I've been going back and forth on whether to use modern treatments, magical ones, potions, or Medieval methods (like the show itself) and I wanted to use some more historically correct treatments in this chapter but considering the typical reaction to someone not breathing was to slap them around a bit before burying them I once again took the easy way out. Thank the BBC for the unlimited Deus ex Machina potential of the _Merlin_ universe.  
So not only that, but I also indulged in another cliché for this chapter 'cuz why not?  
This should give you guys a miniscule amount of relief before heading into the final stretch of this tale.  
In fact, there should only be one or two cliffhangers left after this point so you can all relax a bit and just enjoy the ride.

* * *

_He clutched at the aged hand and moved it up to rest against a mostly bare and entirely too still chest.  
Merlin had stopped breathing._

* * *

"Try to rouse him, Sire. I will return shortly."  
Despite the use of Arthur's title, Gaius' voice was commanding as he rushed to his workbench and began sifting through the potions now strewn about its surface.

Feeling more than a little bit helpless Arthur slapped Merlin's cheek a few times and called out to him, growing more frantic with each passing moment.

Gaius crashed to his knees next to the prince, a smoking cup clenched in his fist.  
"Sit him up" he instructed absently, fastening a bizarre contraption to the top of the cup- it looked a bit like a small bellows.

Fitting the mouth of the pump between blue lips Gaius gave a few strong pumps, causing Merlin's lungs to expand.  
Removing the device he then reached forward and pressed against his chest, causing purple smoke to escape from his ward's mouth and nose.

Arthur found the whole experience rather surreal and entirely unnerving, being able to do nothing but brace the unresponsive body and hope everything would turn out okay.

His eyes stung but he told himself it was only due to the noxious fumes billowing into the air.

The physician had repeated his ministrations several times now and only a small amount of pungent smoke issued from Merlin as the potion began to lose its potency- tears streamed freely down the wrinkles in the elder's face.

"La-" he choked a bit on the lump in his throat "lay him on the floor."

More than a little bit horrified, Arthur did as he was asked and the physician laid his head on the servant's chest. The prince watched with bated breath as a minute passed in silence before Gaius sat up, face frighteningly still as he announced "his heart isn't beating."

"No." Arthur breathed, looking down at the calm face of his constant companion.  
_This can't be happening._

"No." He said more firmly. Anger had always been his default reaction, it was so much easier that way.  
"You listen to me Merlin, you are not allowed to die."

He slapped the slack face once more, making the unsupported head swing to the side and stay there.

His authoritative facade crumbled almost immediately and he bent over the body of his friend.  
Why was it so easy to admit it now? Merlin was his best friend, perhaps the only one he had ever truly had.

Beginning to sob, Arthur clenched his hands into fists around the fabric of Merlin's shirt.  
The part of his mind most strongly in denial wondered absently where the usual neckerchief was, then decided the shirt was doing a fair impression of one.

"You can't leave, idiot. Didn't you just promise you'd be by my side protecting me?"  
His fists beat against bruised flesh.

"How are you supposed to do that now?"  
Fists swung down again, harder this time.

"Curse it Merlin..."  
He raised his arms again, all his emotion crashing down along with them as he yelled.

"I need you!"

His eyes widened, appalled at the sickening crack- a reaction quickly replaced by a stunned leap to the side as Merlin drew in a harsh breath and promptly let it out as a pained scream.

Gaius, who had turned away to mourn in relative privacy, was at his side in a flash with a painkiller fished from the depths of his robes.

Breaths still coming in gasps, Merlin drank it enthusiastically with barely a flinch at the taste.  
Screams subsiding to groans he began writhing on the floor, threatening to worsen his mounting injuries.

"Hold him!" Gaius shouted to the still-shocked prince, who leapt forward to do as he was bid.  
"Merlin! Merlin, listen to me! You need to lie still. I can help you, but not if you're thrashing about like a fish out of water!"

Either the words got through to him or he simply ran out of energy as Merlin then settled into relative stillness, only the occasional spasm of pain racking his frame.

"Okay. Sire, I need you to lift him up so I can bandage his ribs."

Arthur looked stricken as he once again pulled his manservant up onto his lap, raising him gently as Gaius wrapped the clean linen around his back.

Realizing the reason for the prince's apparent feeling of guilt, the physician was quick to reassure him.  
"Sire, you saved his life. You must have hit him with enough force to make his heart beat again."

The relief was evident on his face and fresh tears were now flowing.  
"I've never seen anything like it before."

His tone was hushed and reverent, clearly displaying how grateful he was to have his surrogate son back among the living.

With the bandage now wound and Merlin protesting weakly at its tightness, Gaius turned to grab a bucket.  
"I need you to drink this Merlin." He said, holding the previously smoking cup to the now blessedly pink lips of his ward.

Merlin eyed the bucket, knowing what was to come.

Gaius noticed the look and simply began tipping the cup forward.  
"Better to do it now before the coughing starts."

Nodding, Merlin gave in and drank the whole thing in one go before turning to the pail in wary anticipation.

He nearly pitched headlong into the vessel as the first surge of liquid came up and Arthur quickly moved to support him, awkwardly rubbing his back in an attempt to comfort.

Merlin gave him a weak grin in thanks as he once more laid back, completely spent.

"Well that was fun, wasn't it?" He commented lightly, just noticing a wobbly smile of relief spreading across his master's face as he slipped into peaceful slumber.


	12. Resolve

A/N: Starting a new chapter is much more daunting when there's no cliffhanger to springboard off of- but I suffered through it just for you guys ;)

A thought I had this week: if I had a nickle for every _Merlin_ fanfic chapter that ended with someone falling unconscious I would be a rich person.  
That aside, I must soldier on and finish this story so I can get to the others that are clamoring for attention- should only be a couple more chapters after this one.

I now present to you: Dialogue!

* * *

Waking slowly, Merlin struggled to understand the murmurings half-heard through his door.  
Sometime during his most recent bout of unconsciousness he had been moved to his own bed and he could see that his arm was sporting a thick bandage, spots of red just beginning to appear on the outermost layer.

"-absolutely sure?"

"I didn't actually _see_ it but what else could it have been, Gaius?"

…

He only realized he had fallen asleep when he had to open his eyes again– and it had been so much work the first time.  
It didn't seem as if much time had passed, however, as the conversation was ongoing.

"-doomed then? I won't accept that."  
Arthur's voice was rising in volume and intensity.

"No My Lord, I believe I will be able to cure the victims. I think I heard Morgana telling Merlin about the disease, I just need to ask him for the details."

…

"There's something you're not telling me, Gaius. What is it?"

…

"Even if my treatment works, it will- it will not save Merlin."

"What?" There was an edge of desperation to the prince's voice that pulled Merlin a bit further into consciousness.

"I believe, Sire, that the root of this illness is a curse Morgana- or perhaps her sister Morgause- has placed on him."

…

"Why Merlin?"

"Well, he does have access to most areas of the castle and town; he spends a lot of time with important people as well as the common folk. Clearly they were hoping to infect as many as possible."

A sigh, presumably the physician's.

"It is also true that Morgana has a particular hatred for Merlin as he has foiled her plans in the past."

If Arthur replied to that it never reached Merlin's ears as he slipped back into dreamless slumber.

* * *

"Merlin." Gaius reached out to gently shake his ward awake.  
"I'd like to let you rest, my boy, but I need to ask you some questions."

With a groan, Merlin's eyes opened a sliver.  
"Gaius?"

"Merlin, what did Morgana tell you about the disease? Can you remember?"

He seemed to consider this for a few moments before answering.

"I think so. Morgause-" he paused to take a few breaths "she cursed me. Anyone" another pause to look around the room "anyone with magic is instantly infected without fail- unless they've had the cure, of course."

Gaius saw by the horrified expression dawning on his ward's face that he had remembered exactly what had happened to the cure.

"I dropped it Gaius! I-" the coughs interrupted his rant of guilt and self loathing before it truly began.

The physician attempted to calm him, rubbing his back gently and making soothing noises.  
"It's not your fault my boy. Besides, I can treat this disease."

Breathing slowly returning to normal, Merlin responded quietly "But you can't treat me."

Face sad, the elder man pulled the younger into a fatherly embrace.  
"I will find a way, Merlin. Arthur is also determined to heal you."

The warlock huffed "He wouldn't be if he knew why I'm sick."

"You can't think that way, Arthur cares for you a great deal. I'm sure he will accept you eventually."

Merlin only hummed in response, his focus wavering once again.

"Rest. We'll get this sorted out."

The physician remained for several moments, gazing with love and concern on the face of his surrogate son before leaving to resume his research.

* * *

Arthur was having none of it.  
He had had his servant injured in front of him due to severe illness, had been forbidden from seeing him, had been left without information on his condition, and had come to see him only to find his childhood friend _attacking_ him- with a dagger _he_ had given her!  
And now there was no cure?  
Even if the illness didn't kill him he would be more or less confined to his quarters for fear of spreading the disease.

No. No more.

Arthur was not a patient man and he had already withstood too much.  
He was going to end this today.

Apparently the small army hadn't all been for show as they had made camp near Camelot's walls, just out of arrow range.  
According to Sir Leon's report Morgause had indeed placed backup troops in the forest, and some of them had been sorcerers.

Camelot's men had made a good showing before withdrawing as night fell, leaving their enemies to pick up their dead.  
There were only a few injuries among the knights and a few foot soldiers would be buried that night- overall a victory.

Still Arthur could not be happy about it.  
He had left his men and he didn't regret that decision, but he still felt guilt at the results.

Shaking off his moment of malaise, Arthur strode forth purposefully to begin sneaking past his own city guards.

* * *

Morgause was sitting by her half-sister's bedside, watching her with a worried gaze.  
The healing spells were working well and Morgana would be fine by morning, but what then?

Their plans would go much more smoothly if Morgana remained present and in favor at the King's court, but that was hardly likely with the prince now against them.

"My Lady?"

The witch's eyes narrowed at the guard outside her tent flap.

"What is it?" She snapped.

"Prince Arthur is here, he wishes to speak with you."

"Oh does he, now?" Well this was unexpected, but probably to her benefit.  
Whispering a quick spell, she concealed Morgana's presence before replying.

"Very well, admit him."


	13. Denouement

A/N: I feel like these last chapters are/will be suffering due to my impatience to start a new story, but hopefully they aren't too bad.

Also- double update, whoo! This is what happens when I'm sick and have a legitimate excuse to not be lifting heavy things as is necessary to finish setting my apartment in order (yes I still haven't finished, mostly because it's the really annoying stuff that's left- I don't even know where to put these things).

Probably only one more chapter after this one, possibly an epilogue as well, then onto something new!

* * *

Arthur stepped determinedly into the tent, blinking at the brightness of the magic-lit space.  
Morgause lounged in a padded chair in the center of the tent, amusement in her eyes.

"To what do I owe this- pleasure?"

Hand grasping the hilt of his sword, Arthur advanced toward the witch to stop mere feet from her perch.

"I've come to _request_ that you release the curse on my servant Merlin." He forced the words out from between his gritted teeth.

"And why would I do that? I rather doubt you'd be willing to give me what I want in trade."  
Her condescending tone only served to fan the flames of Arthur's annoyance.

"I will give you whatever you ask, within reason, as long as I have the power to do so."

She regarded him for a moment, head tilted to the side.  
Suddenly a solution to her problem occurred to her.

"I will make you another deal, _Prince_. I will release the curse if you agree to forget Morgana's part in this affair."

Arthur's eyes narrowed.  
"What?"

"I can cast a spell that will... _gloss over_ your memories. Another sorcerer will take the place of my sister, one you can't quite remember the look of, and you will forget that she was ever involved. In return I will fix your _servant_." On her lips the word dripped with scorn.

He considered it- on the one hand, he had to let this _witch_ work magic on him; on the other, Merlin would be healed.

Could he trust her?  
He shook his head.  
Of course he couldn't, but Morgana was clearly important to her, so perhaps she would be honest in this.  
After all, she had honored their previous deal- such as it was- and left Merlin behind.

Could he afford to forget Morgana's betrayal?  
Surely Merlin and Gaius would tell him.

He spent a moment in pained indecision before sighing.  
There was really only one choice he could make.

Yes, this was a trade he could afford.

"I accept."

Morgause smirked.

* * *

Merlin sat up abruptly- fully awake, aware, and confused.  
A voice emanated from the empty space to his right.

"Had a good night's sleep, hm?"

His expression hardened.  
_Morgause._

"Just thought I'd let you know your _precious_ prince has secured your release from my curse. Too bad he won't remember his sacrifice."

"What did you do?" Merlin demanded.

"Oh it wasn't just me. He agreed to have his memory of my sister's actions removed. Even if you tell him he won't believe you."

"If you've harmed him-"

"Do relax, _Mer_lin. I made an agreement and I have honored it. I've even informed you before you could make yourself look even more the fool."  
The dark chuckling was more unnerving with no face to accompany it.  
"I suspect we'll be meeting again soon- don't expect such clemency next time."

Merlin shivered involuntarily and struggled out of bed.

* * *

Arthur woke all at once, staring at the familiar canopy above his bed.  
He only vaguely remembered getting into bed last night, and wasn't entirely certain what he'd been doing before that point.  
Something about a tent?

Perhaps he had been surveying the enemy camp?  
Yes, that felt right.

Looking about his chambers he was once more saddened by the absence of his bumbling manservant. It had only been a couple of days but it was enough for Arthur to know how... _accustomed _he had become to the man's odd blend of competence and clumsiness. After all that had happened yesterday he wasn't sure if he'd ever be at ease with having the idiot out of his sight again.

Arthur shuddered at the memory. He had almost lost his best- possibly his _only_ friend to one of Morgause's sorcerers.  
He cursed himself for allowing the witch to escape with her ally, though he knew there was little else he could do in that situation.

Shoving aside the guilt and anger, the prince heaved himself out of bed and had just finished dressing himself when George arrived with his breakfast.

* * *

Gaius had a system; one that would circumvent the highly infectious nature of the magical malady. Having a great many rooms at his disposal the physician had only to ensure that patients were isolated, cured, and segregated- which is what he was currently doing.

One by one the infected were brought to a central room where Gaius treated their symptoms, ensured that there was no lingering effect from the disease, and sent them on to one of the rooms housing the healed.

The quarantine would remain in place for another two days for safety, but Gaius was confident that he had managed to end the epidemic.  
Even Merlin had been cured– though Gaius had been nearly as displeased with the method as the patient himself.

The physician smiled fondly at the thought of his ward who was still rather out of it due to his head injury.

Gaius had been tending to him earlier and Merlin, apparently immersed in some happy dream, had called him 'father'.  
The physician's heart had almost burst with happiness.

Of course, some time later he had hugged his guardian, called him 'mother', and asked when he had gained so much weight.  
Shaking his head and chuckling, Gaius returned to his work.

And if two glistening tears were making their way down the wizened face, who would say?


	14. The End of The Beginning

A/N: So, I'm spending most of my weekend lying sick in bed and what do I think about? _Man, I really wish I'd used the word 'glistening' instead of 'sparkling' in that last chapter._  
Lame.  
So, since I've received more knocks on my door today then the past 4 months combined I've decided to give up on staying in bed (it's dreadfully boring anyway).  
This has left me once again wishing I had bought a laptop.  
And yes, I did go back and change the word, but only because there was a typo in that sentence to fix.

Anyway, here we are at the last chapter. The epilogue turned out teeny so I just tacked it onto the end.  
I think I'll whip up a oneshot to fill the space while I decide which multi-chapter fic to pursue next.  
So many ideas, so little time!  
In fact, I think I'll post a poll so you all can decide (though I'm not promising I won't ignore the results and do whatever I want at the last minute). Power to the people (potentially)!

**I have written a oneshot expanding the Merlin/Gaius scene from the end of chapter 13. It's called "A Moment Aside"- check it out!

* * *

The day the quarantine was lifted Merlin awoke to the sounds of a human stampede as the cured rushed out into the courtyard and the various peoples of Camelot attempted to regain a semblance of normalcy. Shortly after the herd had departed there came a knocking on the physician's door.

He would have gotten up, but he was currently confined to his bed under threat of being drugged and tied down- and Merlin had no doubt Gaius would follow through.

A few words were exchanged and soon afterward a blond head was poking its way into Merlin's tiny room.  
An insulting greeting was just about to burst from his lips when he noticed the pale figure behind his master.

Morgana smirked at him, clearly enjoying his frozen open-mouthed expression.

"Trying to catch flies Merlin? I realize you may be tired of watery broths but that's more than a little desperate, don't you think."  
Arthur put on an overly thoughtful face "though you are rather fond of rat stew, as I recall."

"Hello to you too, Sire." He dipped his head and added "my lady" just barely managing to convert the hostility to slight sarcasm.

The prince frowned at him. "Morgana has been worrying about you this whole time, Merlin, you should show more appreciation."

Merlin was about to respond in an ill-advised way when Gaius bustled in.  
"Please forgive him, Sire. He is not quite himself yet. The head injury, you see..."

The old man gave his ward a glare that had him looking down in his lap.

"Forgive me, my lord, I did not mean to offend."

Arthur clearly took his servant's reaction as confirmation of Gaius' words and nodded, slight concern showing through his royal facade.  
"Is it that grievous an injury?"

The elder smiled fondly at him "I believe he will be able to resume light duty in a week– though his broken arm will take several more weeks to heal. The main concern now is impaired coordination."

"So you're saying he's _already_ back to normal?" Arthur replied with a wicked grin.

"Prat." Merlin responded dutifully, though his heart wasn't really in it.

Morgana chose that moment to step forward, effectively blocking Merlin from the sight of the other two.

"I'm so glad to see you recovering, Merlin. You had us all so worried- Gwen was practically beside herself! She'll probably be by to see you after she has finished with her chores."

The entire time she had been speaking Morgana had been squeezing the knife wound she had inflicted, fingernails biting cruelly despite the padding of the bandages.

"That said, I have my own matters to attend to. I'll see you later Merlin."  
She sat up and Merlin noticed the red seeping to the surface of the previously clean linen.

He quickly replaced his wince with a forced smile as Morgana made her way to the door and left as if she hadn't just been mildly torturing someone.

Gaius, however, had noticed his strained look and excused himself to retrieve a pain reliever.

Merlin turned pleading eyes to his prince.  
"You can't trust her, Arthur" he said sincerely, voice weak but steady.

The aforementioned sighed.

"Come, Merlin, surely you don't believe that? She's your friend, and mine as well- though don't tell her I admitted it. Whatever makes you think otherwise is just a product of your delusional mind."

He had reached forward as if to poke Merlin in the head but then seemed to think better of it, pointing emphatically instead.

"No, Arthur-"

"Enough, Merlin." There was the beginning of a dangerous glint in his eyes now.  
"I can overlook this due to your condition, but if you persist I will have to discipline you."

"Sorry." Merlin mumbled, crestfallen.  
Why did he think anything would change now that Arthur had forgotten Morgana's attack?

Arthur immediately brightened.  
"Now, enough of that. I expect you back at work by week's end so you had better focus on healing."

The royal shot him a serious look.  
"I mean it Merlin. Get well soon."

Then the moment was broken.  
"I can't stand any more of George's brass jokes– and his efficiency is maddening!"

Arthur shook his head at the infuriating nature of competent servants and slipped from the room just as Gaius returned.

"He really doesn't remember at all Gaius." Merlin said forlornly.

The physician nodded in acknowledgment.  
"But perhaps he will be more quick to notice in the future. Morgana may even lie low for a while after this."

The warlock snorted in disbelief.  
"Sure, and that painkiller _isn't _a sleeping draught."

Gaius had the grace to look guilty for a moment, but unstoppered the vial regardless.  
"You need rest to recover."

Merlin gave in with a sigh and downed the potion, face puckering with the taste.

"These seem to get worse every time I take one."  
A huge yawn nearly cracked his jaw as he glared accusingly at his guardian.

"I have no idea why you'd think that was the case." Gaius said with a touch too much innocence in his tone.

Merlin would have pressed the issue, but was far too busy drooling onto his pillow.

* * *

And so it was that time passed and Arthur found himself staring in horror as his newly revealed half-sister claimed the throne for herself- and he _remembered_.

It was then that he made a silent vow to himself to never again dismiss Merlin's judgment.  
Never again.


End file.
